


Or How I'll Love The Way You Taste (My Obsession)

by NoctisXit



Category: Bleach
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29149110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoctisXit/pseuds/NoctisXit
Summary: "...the closest he could get to feeling something akin to affection."
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	Or How I'll Love The Way You Taste (My Obsession)

Grimmjow doesn't remember a moment when his name has been uttered as something so… pure, both in intent and tone, generally, it was an angered shout, a last cry uttered in the wakes of a dying breath, a  _ curse,  _ detached, sneered or spatted in a way that spoke of carelessness, disdain or mockery. Respect was usually there, in varying amounts, because no matter how much certain hollows despised him, they acknowledged his place among them.

There were also friendly calls, a certain sense of familiarity, but also the barrier of his towering status within his pack. 

With Ichigo, as with many other things, that was different. 

_ 'Grimmjow.'  _ He would call, smiling, in mischief or familiarity at certain times, and it was always… casual, no second intent aside getting his attention or regarding him as an equal. 

Trustful, caring. Grimmjow thought it was stupid, but it also made something soft unfurl inside his chest, warm and tender and so very  _ human…  _ He found it disgusting, genuine. 

Like everything about the human was. 

The happiness in his voice when saying his name after a particular sarcastic comment, all muffled giggles and barely concealed laughter. The anger when he shouted at him for whatever petty little deed he had gotten himself into for being left unsupervised for a period of time he deemed to be  _ too long.  _ The casualty with which he requested his attention for a question or nonalachant comment. The purred pleasure when he called for him while Grimmjow held him and took satisfaction and moans and gasps from his body. 

And Grimmjow would be lying if he said he hadn't grown to appreciate the way his name was uttered, in every way, shape or form, with every emotion and meaning, when it was enunciated by thin lips kissed by the sun. He got high on the feeling it caused him, giddy in a way that was fucking ridiculous, but he couldn't really get himselt to care, in a way, 'cause he could never stop himself from seekimg out the rush of whatever fix he had managed to latch himself into. And this was no exception, and really, it was a small thing inside of an ever growing list that appeared to find no end in regards to one Ichigo Kurosaki.

Somehow, Grimmjow couldn't appear to get enough of him. Time didn't seem to quench the  _ hunger  _ gnawing at him when it related to the shinigami, all raw power and emotion, a flame uncontrolled, like a collapsing star, bright and deadly and beautiful, and  _ reclaimed.  _

And he knew this fixation, this claim he had staked on the other, abrasive and voracious and possessive, and every level of  _ unhealthy,  _ was probably the closest he could get to feeling something akin to affection. The soft thrum of warmth still nothing but a ghost between a bigger, more uncontrolled, chaos tearing him from the inside out, making him anxious for the growing howls and demands asking to get more and more and  _ more  _ of the other. 

Devour him whole, until he was nothing but white bones and  _ memory.  _

And a curled up weight resting safely inside Grimmjow's soul. Safe. Pretty. And  _ his.  _

**Author's Note:**

> I, uh, I don't know what to say. Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it.


End file.
